


siúil a rún

by antijosh



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Ambiguous Relationships, Fae & Fairies, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 06:54:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13921725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antijosh/pseuds/antijosh
Summary: fae aren't supposed to fall in love.





	siúil a rún

**Author's Note:**

> this is the fantasy au based off irish mythology that i've always wanted to write. for anyone who doesn't know, a leannán sídhe is a particular type of fairy that takes a human lover, usually an artist, and becomes their muse. this almost always results in the untimely death of the human. i've always been fascinated by them, and i'm glad i finally got to write one thanks to the "fairies" prompt for [jaehyungparkian week 2018](https://twitter.com/day6sailing).
> 
> title the same as the traditional song, and it translates to something like "go, my darling." ((pronunciation: shool ah rune))
> 
> not properly beta'd or edited, both of which i accept full responsibility for.

Fae aren’t supposed to fall in love—at least, that’s what Jaehyung’s told. But he’s never been one to follow the rules anyway. 

There’s a boy. (Well, a man, technically, but Jaehyung likes to think that being 472 years old gives him the right to call a 20-year-old human a boy.) He’s got kind eyes and a royal looking face, and Jaehyung knows from the second he first sees the boy that he’s important. Things become clearer, later. 

The boy comes into Jaehyung’s woods, setting a blanket out on the cool, dew-damp grass before pulling a guitar onto his lap and beginning to play. Occasionally he stops, reaching down beside him to scribble new lines of jumbled words onto a notepad. Jaehyung can’t read the human language, but every word the boy sings is beautiful. Like him, Jaehyung thinks. 

The boy returns to Jaehyung’s woods, and Jaehyung does what he can to keep him coming back. He deters any animals that would be distractions and does his best to preserve the cloud of inspiration around the boy, but there’s only so much he can do from a distance. He knows getting too close is a bad idea—fae have had their lives stripped for less. Their kind aren’t supposed to consort with humans, especially fae like him. He knows his presence can quite literally drain the life out of humans if he’s not careful. He knows this, and yet. 

Jaehyung doesn’t have to wait long for the boy to return again. Spring has the forest in full bloom, and the boy sets his blanket out next to a patch of yellow flowers. They’re bright, like his smile. It’s been awhile since Jaehyung’s taken a human form, and his nose wrinkles at the unfamiliar pinching sensation, like he’s being stuck with needles all over. He waits until the boy starts playing the guitar, and then he emerges from the woods. 

“I like what you’re playing,” he says, the human’s language sliding roughly over his tongue. (Maybe, if he spends enough time with this one, he’ll teach him to speak the fae language. But Jaehyung’s getting ahead of himself.)

“Shit,” the boy curses, looking up at Jaehyung with wide doe eyes. Then, “thanks. Who are you?”

“I’m Jaehyung,” he replies with an easy smile, settling down next to the boy without a care. The boy looks surprised, but he accepts Jaehyung’s presence quickly.

“I’m Younghyun. Well, they call me Brian here. Nice to meet you,” the boy extends a hand, and Jaehyung takes it like he’s seen humans do. (Fae would never greet each other with touch—it’s considered extremely disrespectful. But in this body, he does as the humans do.) Brian’s hand is warm, smaller than Jaehyung’s with thicker, calloused fingers. Jaehyung likes the feeling. 

“Brian, like a nickname?” Jaehyung asks. He knows what those are. Jaehyung in itself is a nickname, because his true fae name is much too long to use in casual conversation.

“Something like that,” Brian laughs. It’s a lilting, musical sound that Jaehyung feels like he’s been missing out on his whole life.

“Then you can call me Jae. A nickname for a nickname,” he replies, lifting his chin proudly. 

“Jae, then.” Brian’s smile gets even softer, even warmer (if that’s even possible). Jae likes the way his name sounds from Brian’s mouth. Or maybe he just likes Brian.

Brian takes Jae’s presence at his side with surprisingly little protest. After assurance that Jae doesn’t mind watch the “process” (as Brian calls it), Brian picks up playing and writing just like he has before Jae made his existence known. 

In the end, it’s Brian that asks if Jae will return tomorrow. Jae promises he will. (It’s the first of many.)

—

“You’re kinda weird, you know?” Brian says one day, pen scratching across the paper as he speaks, not bothering to look up.

Jae frowns. “That’s a bad thing, isn’t it?”

“Not to me,” Brian replies, bringing his eyes up to meet Jae’s. “Weird people make the best company.”

—

Spring fades to summer in each other’s company, Brian playing every day while Jae just sits and listens, occasionally running his mouth if Brian allows it. Jae teaches Brian a thing or two about singing (fae really value a cappella choirs, okay), and he asks for Brian to teach him things in return. 

“Teach me to read your language,” Jae demands one day, squeezing himself into a physical form so he can plop down next to Brian, who remains unfazed. 

“It’s not hard,” Brian laughs, and he moves his arm to show Jae his pad of paper, covered in writings that are absolutely meaningless to Jae. 

The more time they spend on it, the more Jae realizes that spelling in English (the language they’re speaking—he was quite embarrassed when he realized he didn’t know the name) makes absolutely no sense. It takes countless hours on their blanket and a lot of help from Brian, but eventually Jae learns to sound out the letters and read at what Brian calls “the level of a five year old child.” Jae doesn’t know what that means to human standards, but he thinks it sounds pretty good.

Now that he can read all the lyrics, even the ones Brian doesn’t sing, Jae realizes how much of a romantic Brian is. 

“This is so sappy,” he says, waving a loose page in Brian’s face. Brian laughs, snatching it out of Jae’s hands.

“I like happy endings, okay?” he defends and Jae laughs, leaning into Brian’s warmth.

“It’s cute,” he says finally, when he can stop laughing at Brian’s embarrassed face. Brian’s blush worsens, and Jae falls a little bit more in love. 

—

With every warm afternoon that passes, Jae finds himself wanting to confess more and more. But Brian—Brian already knows. Jae doesn’t have to say anything, doesn’t have to hear the words from Brian to know; they love each other. It’s a fact, like the fact that the Earth goes around the sun and Jae is 472 and one day this will end. But Jae tries to not think about that bit so much. 

—

As the weather starts growing colder, Jae watches Brian become weak, songs filling page after page of his notebook until it pains him to write or play for more than an hour at a time. This is when Jae knows. 

On their last day together Jae knows its their last day, but Brian doesn’t. It feels unfair. They settle into their spot in the woods, everything the same. Guitar, blanket, paper. Brian’s head rests on Jae’s shoulder, his breathing labored from walking the path he’s walked a thousand times. 

Heart heavy, Jae has a final request. “Will you write a song about me?” he asks as his fingers run up and down Brian’s arm, slung over the guitar he can barely carry anymore.

“I think they’ve always been about you,” Brian answers, lifting his head to meet Jae’s eyes. 

“Play me one, then. When you’re ready.”

It takes a few minutes, but eventually Brian picks up the guitar, plucking out a low tune. His voice is low and sweet, and he sings of finding love after years of longing. It’s a fitting ending, though Brian doesn’t know it.

As the sun begins to set, Jae walks Brian back to the village, leaving him with a kiss on the crown of his head and a promise he knows he can’t keep.

It hurts, but Brian recovers without him. Jae does what he can, still, to help his songwriting and protect him from malevolent spirits out to leech off his creativity, his brightness. It’s funny, when Jae thinks about it. That’s exactly what he was doing, really. 

Brian never stops writing love songs. Some are sadder than others, but they’re all made with love, and in the end they bring him happiness. Jae watches over him, till the end. Till he can’t anymore. When that time comes, he mourns, but at least he knows that Brian got many, many more years than he would have with Jae. At least he knows Brian still got his happy ending. 


End file.
